Doctor Who Forgotten Suns Chapter Eight
“What on Oortelia is that?” Sub Commander Talamane’s bark of surprise seemed to sum up what everyone in the hub was thinking, as the huge portal onscreen whisked open unexpectedly. Framed in the opening was a small… creature. Although its lower half was partially obscured by the bottom lip of the door-seal, it was clearly Oortelianoid - two arms, two legs, one head. But there the resemblance ended. Those parts of its anatomy not concealed by protective clothing were an unpleasant pinkish-white color, and there was a thatch of dark fur on the top of its head. Silandor studied it in absolute fascination. Those troopers that had not scattered to covering positions up the walls instantly, formed a cordon around Palasar and the two Tec’s. The odd little alien obviously had rudimentary intelligence, as it raised its arms in submission on seeing them. Yet, paradoxically, it was also baring its very unimpressive teeth rather aggressively. Silandor hoped that Specialist Palasar would recover from her surprise soon. If she did not assert her authority rapidly, the strange little creature might be hurt. “Clade Commander, Sir!’ the Specialist crewing Palasar’s position called out. ‘Do you want me to interrupt the feed to the Enclaves, Sir? I can make it look like a technical malfunction.” Silandor studied the events transpiring onscreen thoughtfully, considering and discarding various options with lightning speed, then murmured. “No, Specialist…’ he paused to look down into the trench, ‘what is your name?” “Manonkar, Sir. Specialist Second Manonkar.” “No, Specialist Manonkar, I don’t think that will be necessary.’ Silandor returned his attention to the screen. ‘Although I commend your prompt thinking. I would like to see the Honored Elders… reactions… when they view the feed. This alien could prove to be a useful diversion for them. Let it play.” The blinking light on the right-hand curve of his board momentarily puzzled Null, before his mind caught up and training kicked in. Cancelling it with a sharp tap he transferred the data to the main display monitor: the ship schematic still showing was rotated, and zoomed-in to an area of the lower hull. An overlay indicated some kind of breach in structural integrity at this location, but little detail. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that this converted hulk lacked the state-of-the-art sensor systems of a front-line combat vessel. Manually isolating the affected area, he leant closer to the screen (as if this would help!) and squinted at the curious readings. He noted that, whatever the damage, it presented no immediate danger to the ship - indeed, it appeared to have been repaired: he could detect no venting of atmosphere. Frowning thoughtfully, Null called up a life-sign scan. There was a peculiar diffuseness, a blurring, surrounding the damaged area; but nothing coherent enough to be positively identified as a life-form. If anything, it reminded Null of nothing more than an organic trace reading from a battle zone, as if someone (or something) had been dismembered in an explosion. Perhaps there had been an aspiring intruder, but he had blown himself to pieces in the process! Leaning away from his controls, Null rested against the seatback and centered himself. He felt empty. Inside he was just a void, and a humorless smile brushed his lips at the notion. His name was now morbidly appropriate, it seemed. There was nothing left to him now but duty and responsibility; his imperative to protect the precious cargo sealed away in The Vault. However, there appeared to be no immediate threat, so he went about his preparations calmly and methodically; more automaton than living, feeling being. First he checked the power storage cells and atmospheric regulators. He grunted when he noted that there had been very little loss to either since he had disengaged the main drives. Deciding to leave the Oxy-Gen systems in reserve - the air still present was sufficient for his purposes - Null keyed in the instructions to re-initialize ship wide ambient lighting. This might take a while to come into full effect, but he considered it necessary. He intended to search every micron of his vessel if required - he wanted to banish the shadows. Next he removed a small chip from his wrist comp and carefully slotted it into a port in the MCB. After double-checking that he had the correct link - the one for the Bio-Trace Scanner set into the board - he uploaded the data it contained. After returning the data-chip to his wrist-comp, Null slowly scanned the flight deck as he considered what else he might do. Oddly, he felt no sense of urgency, no real connection to his predicament - certainly no personal fear. He found himself pondering this as he flipped the arm-rest switch and the seat slid back. He rose from his station. Ignoring his helmet and gloves, Null leant on the back of his seat and glanced, for the first time, towards the rear of the bridge. And froze. Nestled in one rear corner of his bridge was a small blue box! It looked completely out of place against the plain metallic surface of the bulkheads, almost shabby and battered looking. He had no idea what it was. Perhaps it had been left behind as a joke by one of his crew - he wouldn’t put it past Beta Aristophanes to find such tomfoolery amusing! But then… why hadn’t he noticed it before, during his lonely vigil prior to entering Isolation? And where would Aristophanes even have found such an odd looking object? As he approached the box slowly, he noted that it came to just below knee height, and was pocked with rectangular indentations. Going down on one knee he reached for it cautiously, still half expecting the top to come flying off as soon as he touched it. He had visions of being showered in confetti or, knowing Aristophanes, emergency sealant gel. However, nothing happened when Null picked the box up in both hands, although he did notice a faint tingling sensation in his fingers. Shaking it vigorously gave no clue as to its contents. He held it to an ear and listened intently, then snorted in self-derision. Had he subconsciously expected the damn thing to be ticking? Returning to his command station, he attempted to open the box, but the top refused come off no matter how hard he pulled. After one final examination, to see if there was a hidden catch or release that he hadn’t noticed, Null placed the perplexing object onto his seat. He would deal with it later. Leaning over the control board, he punched the access key and waited for the bridge exit to open once more. Palasar stepped past the trooper kneeling before her and raised an arm into the air. “Nobody fire!” She shouted with as much authority as she could muster. The bizarre being that had surprised everyone so much appeared to be trying to talk. (Was its face frozen in that unpleasant grimace through fear?) “First!’ she shouted again, ‘Please instruct your soldiers to lower their weapons and back away, I think they are frightening it. You go too.” The two Tec’s backed away slowly at her command, never taking their eyes off the strange looking alien. When she stood alone before it, Palasar spread her arms wide, to show that she held no weapons. The creature seemed to be reassured by this, as it lowered its own arms in order to negotiate the door-seal, then raised them again after jumping down. It advanced towards her cautiously, seeming to relax - slightly - only as the massive portal hummed shut behind it. “Ah… Greetings, er… I come in peace, I do assure you!’ it said, in strangely accented, but perfectly understandable Oortelian! ‘Would you mind terribly if I put my arms down now?’ The First arrived by Palasar’s shoulder, obviously intimidating the creature, as it hurriedly added. ‘I’m the Doctor. I’m really quite harmless, I promise!” “Then why do you threaten the Specialist with your pitiful teeth?” First rasped suspiciously. Immediately the lines and folds in Thadokta’s curiously malleable face dropped into a different configuration. (Palasar wondered if the process was as painful as it looked!) “Oh! Oh dear… have I made a boo-boo? I do apologize! You see, where I come from, people smile at each other to show that they are friendly! And I do want to be friendly… don’t you?” He asked hopefully. Palasar gave Thadokta permission to lower his hands. He did so gratefully, almost baring his teeth again before thinking better of it, and thanked her. She studied him carefully, hoping that the First would allow her to do the talking, then realized that both he and Thadokta were waiting politely for just that. Unfortunately, Palasar had so many questions; felt so out of her area of expertise, that she just blurted out. “You don’t look like an Ancient!” Beside her, First snorted. Thadokta’s face rearranged itself with bewildering rapidity, the small patches of fur over each eye rising upwards, creasing the flesh above. “Don’t I? Well, that’s very reassuring… so kind of you to say so, Specialist…?” “Specialist Third Palasar.” “Well, Palasar… I may call you Palasar, mayn’t I?’ he waited for her nod before continuing. ‘Admittedly, I’m no spring chicken… perhaps a mature Cheddar, but I’m hardly an Ancient. Why? Were you expecting to find one?” “No, Thadokta,’ she sighed, regretting her foolish outburst, ‘we didn’t expect to find anything alive on this Ship. Your presence here raises so many questions, I do not know where to start.” (This was true, but Palasar knew that she should not have admitted it, especially not in front of the First.) But… she felt no threat at all from Thadokta: indeed, even given his strange countenance, Palasar felt relaxed and comfortable in his presence. To forestall any interruption from First, she quickly went on. “Are there any more of you, Thadokta? What are you doing on this ship? How did you get here? How do you come to speak our language?” Thadokta hesitated, as if uncertain how to answer. He looked speculatively towards First, then again asked Palasar quietly, “Are you friendly?” Looking directly up into First’s unreadable face, Palasar stated. “Nothing will happen to you, Thadokta, without the explicit approval of Clade Commander Silandor.’ Receiving First’s silent agreement, she faced Thadokta again. ‘I am sure he will be keen to question you himself - soon.’ (Needing no further instruction, the First stalked back towards the airlock to make preparations.) ‘If you would accompany me, Thadokta, perhaps you could answer my questions as we walk?” “Certainly, Palasar, I would be delighted to.’ Thadokta didn’t appear to be delighted, as far as she could tell, and kept glancing back at the portal through which he had so unexpectedly arrived. ‘But I do have a rather important one my own, as well.’ He was glancing around as they walked, and actually jumped when he noticed the troopers clinging to the walls. ‘Oh my word! How extraordinary! Um… I take it that you are also visitors on this vessel, Palasar, and you believe that it was flown by these ‘Ancients’?” Palasar assured him that this was the case. “Hmm… Of course… I realized that I had been operating under a false assumption as soon as I saw you people. We are not all that different in size, after all. I will have to place my trust in your good intentions, and perhaps even give you a warning.” As they arrived at the now open airlock, Palasar allowed Thadokta to turn her round, until she faced the massive portal again. “To answer your earlier questions,’ he said, ‘there is only one of me, but two dear friends of mine are behind that door. We arrived here by accident, and our ship was damaged - all that we really want to do is leave! As for speaking your language… well… let’s call it a gift, shall we?’ He paused for breath, then asked Palasar urgently, ‘but more importantly, are these Ancients of yours giants, by any chance?” Somewhat startled by the question, Palasar blinked affirmation and nodded simultaneously. “So all the legends say, Thadokta, yes.” “Ah… then perhaps I should tell you that my friends and I came very close to meeting one a little earlier - and he was very much alive!” “Specialist Manonkar.’ Silandor’s voice remained quiet and calm, yet still carried an urgency that could not be ignored, ‘I believe now would be a good time for that ‘technical malfunction’ you mentioned earlier.” Category:Forgotten Suns